


my wounds don't feel like wounds in your hands

by sheroars



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Why Do Plot When You Can Have Sweet Nothings, canon fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 16:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheroars/pseuds/sheroars
Summary: "my wounds don't feel like wounds in your hands. they feel like beginnings, like a chance to make things right again." - pavana reddy





	my wounds don't feel like wounds in your hands

He nearly dropped the plate he was soaping when she slipped behind him and pressed herself to his back, dropping a chaste kiss on his cheek. She had done it earlier in the evening, in greeting, and it was still burned into his skin. 

 

“Hi.”

  
“Hey.” She giggled, pulling the dish towel off his shoulder so she could dry. “He’s out like a light. What else did you put in those hot chocolates?”

 

“Shot of NyQuil and half a melatonin. If I got my height to dose ratio right, you have about 30 minutes.” She choked on a laugh. And snorted.

 

“This was really nice, Rafael. Thank you.”

 

“It’s nothing.” Spaghetti and meatballs. A staple in the Benson house already. He got the meatballs from her favorite Italian deli but she had been looking at him like he hung the stars tonight. She nudged her elbow against his.

 

“The wine should be finished breathing, will you have a glass?”

 

“Sure.” She finished drying dishes and tossed the towel back over his shoulder playfully. He dried his own hands and leaned back against the counter.

 

She managed to pour half of one glass before she put everything down on the cutting board with a thud, turned on her heel, and caught his face between her hands. He let out a stunned exhale on impact. She lost her nerve before he could respond.

 

“Sorry. I-“ He put his hands on her waist and she fell quiet.

 

“We can try that again, if you want. Little less momentum?” She laughed nervously, looking down. Her hands were still on his face, like she she didn’t know where else to put them. So he turned his head, putting a barely-there kiss on her palm. She watched him with rapt attention as he pulled her flush against him, curling one arm and then the other around her. She cleared her throat. 

 

“Well, the ground didn’t swallow me up, so-”

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, Liv. Please.” He tipped his chin up and pressed his lips to her forehead. Her cheek. She shifted and suddenly they were rocking back and forth. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for...years.” He said, kissing her other cheek. She took a deep breath to steady herself and aimed him towards her mouth, kissing him back and closing her eyes. He kept it chaste, trying not to lose his wits as she brushed their lips together three or four times in a row.

 

“Years, huh?” She breathed out as she paused, hands sliding down the sides of his neck. One dropped to his chest and one pushed into his hair, stroking gently and pulling him even closer.

 

“Only every time you opened your mouth.” He joked. She could probably feel his heart hammering under her fingertips but she was the one who had the audacity to blush. She pulled him to her mouth again. And again. She moaned a little in the back of her throat when their mouthes fell open and he pressed his tongue against hers.

 

“Fuck, Rafael.” She whispered, tilting her head to the side as he trailed intense kisses down her neck, hands pushing up her back possessively.

 

“Gorgeous.” He sucked on the crook of her neck as she hummed, hands fisting in his shirt. Her heart damn near jumped into her throat as he took two steps forward, getting her up against the fridge. He got a thigh between hers. No space left. No air but theirs.

 

“MOM.”

 

“Oh Jesus,” She swore and they both startled. “Fuck.” But when she opened her eyes he was beaming at her. Glowing. God. She kissed him like a punch to the mouth again, sucking hard on his bottom lip before slipping out of his arms and attending to her son. He held on to her hand until he couldn’t anymore, fingertips caressing hers.

 

The nightmare had barely roused Noah from his sleep, so it only took a few minutes of lying next to him to soothe him. She stayed a moment longer to calm her own breathing. She didn’t feel herself crying till the tears slipped off her chin. Exhilaration and adrenaline had her stomach in a half nelson. Oh baby. She pressed her sleeve to her eyes and cheeks before tripping over her own feet getting back to him.

 

He was sitting on the floor of her living room now, leaning against her couch and staring hard at the two wine glasses he had just poured for them. Elbows on his knees, hands folded behind his neck, looking as shell shocked as she felt. She curled up next to him, swallowing the knot in her throat.

 

“We can try that again, if you want?” She joked. He closed his eyes and laughed. She leaned her forehead against his temple as he lowered his hands, finding one of hers to hold. She flexed her fingers and let them fall between his, bringing the back of his hand to her lips.

 

“You can do whatever you want to, Liv.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” He was choked with emotion. She closed her eyes again.

 

“I should have told you I loved you before you left.” She said. He breathed deeply.

 

“I never should have left.” He kissed her forehead again. She leaned in to it. “I love you so much it hurts.” He admitted against her hair. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not even for a day.”

 

“How long will you stay in New York?” She asked slowly, suddenly deeply fearful of the answer. He squeezed her hand.

 

“I’m home.” Her stomach flipped again.

 

“Damn straight.” They laughed. She reached for one of the wine glasses and took a long drink. He followed her example. “Will you tell me where you went?”

 

“Long story.” He drained his glass.

 

“Come to bed then.” He looked at her dubiously. “Lie next to me. Tell me. I’ve got time.” His smile was wobbly. Reverent. Grateful. Her heart swelled. 

 

“Okay.” She listened to him talk till his voice basically gave out. It was like he had been cataloging every minute since the trail, waiting to recite it to someone. The clock on her side table read 3 am. Saturday morning. He laid there under her duvet in his tee shirt and briefs feeling more relaxed than he had in a year. Her hand had never really left his. He could tell she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She had taken her hoodie off and put some fleecy leggings on somewhere around midnight, hanging his button down shirt in her closet.

 

“Stay.” He smiled again. She used their joined hands to pull herself closer to him. Held her breath as he reached for her with his free hand. He draped her leg over his own before sliding both his arms around her. He kissed her chest over her shirt. Over her heart. They folded around each other like they had been doing so for centuries. She let her tears fall into his hair as his dried on the faded NYPD logo on her chest. She held him as tight as she could and relished it. He stroked her arms and kissed her chest again. Her shoulder.

 

It hung there between them. Filled up the silence. Swallowed it whole. Drenched her in warmth head to toe. Universe as her witness, she was in love with this man and he was in love with her.

 

“What are you thinking?” He asked, levering himself up to look at her, holding her in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t stop touching her. Not now.

 

She smiled and brushed her fingers across his lips, his beard. He had barely allowed stubble when they worked together. It had been alien at first, but it softened him somehow. Made his eyes brighter. It was probably as religiously maintenanced as the rest of his life, but seeing him now with his hair out of place and with a beard in her bed was…intoxicating. He wrinkled his nose at the attention and repeated his question.

 

“I’m thinking…this wouldn’t have happened any other way.” She supplied, smiling lightly. “Even after everything that’s happened in our personal lives and our friendship and our jobs…the three wouldn’t have crossed if we had done anything differently.” She held her breath again and closed her eyes. He waited patiently as she collected her thoughts. “I’m laying here and I’m so happy right now. Happier than I’ve been in a long time just because you’re here. “ When she opened her eyes he was beaming again. “I don’t know when it happened. You’ve always been my friend. I’ve always cared about you. Deeply.” He kissed the back of her hand. The inside of her wrist. “But one day I knew I loved you. Now I know I want to give you the world.”

 

“Me too.” He said hoarsely. “No regrets?”

 

“Maybe it’s optimistic…but if it brought me here? Fuck no. You?”

 

“I wouldn’t change a thing.” He admitted. “I think you’re right.” She smiled back. “Everyday was purposeful. Nothing was really wasted if it means we get to…give this a try.” She considered the long years between them. The handful of months he had disappeared completely after the acquittal.

 

“I thought I lost you.”

 

“Me too.” He said again, chuckling. “Mami says it was like I died.” He shrugged off a shiver. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against his. He burried his face in her hair and the pillow and breathed as deeply as he could. “You’re a part of me.” He mumbled. “Like a rib.” She smiled against his ear. “I’m always wondering if you’re hungry. Or if you’ve had enough coffee. Trying to make you laugh. Trying to make you proud. Trying to be worthy of your faith. Even when I think I'm not thinking about you, you've shaped the way I think about others. The world. Ever since the beginning.” She synchronized their breathing. Her eyes were wet with tears but she was so safe. So warm. “No matter what happens. No matter where this goes. You’re a part of me that I will always treasure and that I will never be without.” 

 

“I love you.” She said fiercely. “That will never change.” They fell quiet. Somewhere in the apartment a clock was ticking. Her neighbors were bumping around. A dog barked. New York was buzzing dully beyond the windows. Drunks were on their way home, singing and yelling and laughing in the street. Sirens were blaring. Engines were moving. Horns were honking. The world was turning.

 

“We’re ahead of the curve.” He mumbled against the crook of her neck, rousing her from a doze.

 

“How’s that?”

 

“I usually save the weeping for the third date.” She laughed. Fully. 

 

"You're sweet." She said idly, kissing his cheek and his temple and his lips. 

 

"On you." He seemed horrified with himself the minute he said it. Soft. They were going so soft. "That was unnerving. Quick, pick a fight with me." And they laughed some more.

 

It was almost 4 am. Anything could happen.   

 


End file.
